2p Antarctica: Burn
by Hetalia1643
Summary: Annabeth (2p!Antarctica) loves killing with her family but one day she develops a special power, one that should be kept under wraps. Contains inappropriate subjects and vulgar language.


((Okay guys this story is more of a joke okay ^.^ I will maybe make a second part. Maybe. I'm not sure.))

2P!Antarctica threw herself on the couch. "Oh now that was fun!" she giggled, "I felt like I was at a carnival!" 2P!America smirked and used his bat for support.

"Oh yeah. Especially the game whomp a weasel... just with humans," he did a demonstration swing, "Who knew the head popped off if you hit them hard enough?" She laughed, got up, and started twirling around.

"Oh I could have killed all night!" she sang, "I could have murdered all night! And still have begged for more! I could have stabbed them in the chest! For killing is what we do the best!" She shrieked as 2P!Canada grabbed her hand and together they danced and pranced around the room. "Oh Mattie," she chuckled as he kissed her neck, "You always get so passionate after our little escapades."

He smiled and held her tight. "That's because blood is my drug darling," he nibbled her ear, "The smell of it always gets me going crazy."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and started kissing his face, not caring where her lips landed. "Can you two get a room for heaven's sake?" 2P!France snapped as he came in.

Matthieu grinned picking his girlfriend up bridal style. "You're just jealous she's mine and not yours!" he retorted. Francois shook his head and lit another cigarette.

"You end up going insane after these kind of things," he mumbled, "it's disgusting having to watch you two act like this. I can't wait until tomorrow when you get in your right mind." 2P!Canada shrugged but returned his attention to Ann and they continued their conversing of their love for one another. Usually he was a complete grump and depressed no matter what was going on but after going on a "family outing" as they called it he actually lightened up a little.

2P!England skipped in and shut the door with his foot. Out of all of them he had the most blood on his weapon (a knife) and had that crazy look in his eyes. His usual smile widened more than usual.

"Fantastic job everyone!" he chirped and pulled 2P!Antarctica out of Matt's arms, "Especially you Annabeth! Oh darling you made me proud! Smashing that brick right on the man's vertebrae," he sniffed as his eyes grew misty up, "You killed him with a single blow."

She beamed with pride and gave him a hug. "Like sister like brother, huh?" she asked. He laughed and nodded.

"Of course," he noticed her face, "Oh darling you have some blood on your cheek."

Ann's hand went to her face but he grabbed it. "Let me get it cupcake." He took of her glasses, licked his fingers, and rubbed at the red blotch. Her smile twitched and she shrunk away from him rubbing it herself.

"Oliver," she whined snatching her glasses from his grasp with her other hand, "I'm not a child! If I can kill someone I should be able to clean up my own blood. It's not even mine!" His eyebrows furrowed slightly but the grin didn't fade.

"Now Annabeth I don't want you walking around with blood on your pretty face! Not to mention it leaves evidence." Allen snickered and poked her backside with his bat.

"Oh yes Ann you're SO grown up!" he started playing with one of her black strands of hair as Ollie continued cleaning her face, "Maybe I should get you a pretty red bow to match! Oh and maybe some bloomers just to complete the outfit." Her eyes turned cold and she smiled sourly at him.

"Only if it's dyed with your blood," she said sweetly. Most people would freak out, but instead he simply laughed.

"That's better!" he put his arm around her neck, "I thought you lost your bad-ass side for a second." She didn't notice, but his other hand was traveling south towards her ass.

Matthieu glared at the American and threw his shoe at him. Al's head snapped back as it nailed him in the eye and he crumpled to the ground. "Fuck you," Allen moaned.

Francois blew another puff of smoke into the air. "Did you destroy the evidence?" he asked the Brit as he now fussed her blood stained trench coat.

2P!England nodded and grabbed at the black material but she kept backing up. "Stop it Ollie!" she jumped out of his reach, "I can do it myself! I'm practically an adult now! Blood doesn't show up on black anyway."

He put his hands on his hips. "Annabeth Marie Kirkland I am still your guardian which means you have to let me do my job as a parent!" he lunged at her but she danced away, "Now hold still!" She tried to continue going back but 2P!America grabbed her from behind pinning her arms to her back.

"Let go of me!" she thrashed around but the American had a tight grip. 2P!England took the opportunity to grab the coat and scrub at the blood coating the material. 2P!France rolled his eyes and glanced at Matthieu.

"How are we related to these idiots?" he asked. 2P!Canada shrugged starting to go back into his normal depressed self.

"Ann isn't really our relative. She was adopted if you don't remember," he reminded the Frenchman, "But Oliver and Al... I'm honestly as surprised as you are." Francois got out some wine.

"I wonder if I drink enough I'll forget about every meeting them and I can live my happy amnesiac life," he mumbled to no one and retreated to the darkness of his room.

Meanwhile Oliver threw his hands up in the air. "There's no way I can get this out by hand!"

"Here," Al grabbed the collar of the coat and yanked upwards. Annabeth slipped out of the coat and fell on her ass hard. 2P!England smiled and snatched it from him.

"Thank you Allen," he held it up so he could get a good look at the whole thing, "I'll have to pre-soak then do line dry so I won't ruin the material."

2P!America's eyes widened as 2P!Antarctica got to her feet. "Holy shit! That's what you wear under that thing?"

She had on her black combat boots, red short shorts, a black strapless crop top, and a red see through over shirt to cover her shoulders and forearms. Her face grew hot and she wrapped her arms around herself. "W-Well... it's more comfortable..."

But Allen wasn't listening anymore, he was too busy staring at the cleavage. "Damn..."

2P!Canada sprang out of his seat and punched the pervert in the stomach. "She's your fucking sister!" he yelled as Al fell to the floor once again.

Even Oliver was staring, but quickly averted his gaze. "Why don't you go borrow one of my coats?" he suggested.

She nodded and sprinted out the room, but not before she heard 2P!America say, "Dude, she's giving Ukraine a run for her money!" That was followed by the sound of wood (probably a hockey stick) meeting a skull.

Ann shivered from the cold, it was so much chillier without the protection of her coat. She dug through 2P!England's closet but all of his trench coats were colored with bright pastels. Not to mention it was usually neon pink and baby blue and she despised both of the colors.

She finally found a white coat (he had no black anywhere in sight) with neon pink sleeves that would work for time being. She was still smiling on the outside, but on the inside she was depressed. "They never take me seriously," she mumbled brushing her short midnight black hair, "It's not fair! They still think of me as a child."

She sighed and sat on her bed sticking her hands into her pockets out of habit and froze. Something was in the right pocket. She pulled the object out and gaped at her discovery.

It was a small charm of a sort. It was in the shape of a flame and it literally looked like fire was burning into her palm. The oranges, yellows, and reds swirled together in a hypnotizing way. She stroked it intrigued at what it could do. She clenched her hand into a fist and then she heard a crunch.

2P!Antarctica gasped opening her hand back up but it was too late. The delicate charm was now simple bits of ash. It melted right into her hand and she bit back a scream as pain flooded her system. It was as if 100 needles were being driven through her muscles tearing the flesh apart with ease, a raging storm of fury.

After five torturous minutes the feeling subsided and her hair rested on her scalp. She fell to her knees from the exhaustion of the whole process and vomited all over the floor. Her sides heaved and her limbs refused to listen to her. After she got a hold of herself, she sorted her thoughts.

'What the hell was that?' she thought, 'What did it do to me?' She clenched her fist again as she got to her shaky feet. She opened it fine and nothing happened. She shook her head confused.

"Maybe it was heartburn," she said aloud to the mirror, "Or a serious case of cramps... yeah! Just... cramps." But a flicker of movement caught her eye. She stared at her hand, 'what?'

She snapped and it happened again, a small flame. Her eyes widened and she backed up trying to find something to steady herself. She took a deep breath and thought about heat, the sun, anything related to fire. Her hand exploded into flames. She let out a small shriek and waved her hand around in an attempt to put it out.

"Annabeth?" someone knocked on the door, "Is everything alright?" She frantically looked around for something to put out the fire that was not spreading all the way up her arms. 'Think cold!' her mind told her.

She started thinking about her 1p. Ice, penguins, snow, blizzards... Immediately the orange glow disappeared as quickly as it had come. That was when the door slammed open. Oliver had a cupcake in one hand and a deadly (already bloodied) knife in the other.

The first thing he saw was her standing up startled. He relaxed and straightened his bow tie. "Oh, sorry about that darling. I just heard some commotion out there and-" that was when his eyes landed on the pile of puke. "OH MY GOD!"

She saw what he was staring at and she started panicking. "Oh! That's just...uh...er..."

The three other countries ran in. "What the hell is going on?" Francois mumbled. Al was the first one to notice the vomit.

"Oh wow... what did you eat for breakfast?" Matt glanced at it and his eyes widened.

"Fucking hell! Are you sick?" She shook her head vigorously.

"N-No-"

"Then why did you hurl?" Allen asked. She swallowed hard backing up to her dresser.

"Well...um..."

"You aren't bulimic are you?" Oliver shrieked his eyes almost popping out of his head, "Because that happened to Annabelle and-"

"I do not have bulimia!" she snapped getting slightly irritated. It was proving rather difficult to keep a smile on her face.

"Isn't it obvious?" 2P!France leaned against the door frame, "It was a stomach blow." She let out a sigh of relief thanking Francois for his intervening.

"Y-Yeah, I got hit in the stomach earlier..." she ran her fingers through her hair, "I guess it was worst then I thought-"

"Why didn't you tell anyone?!" 2p!England yelled. She flinched as his eyes flashed pink, no good ever came out of that.

"I didn't think it would be that big of a deal," she teetered on the balls of her feet, "I mean it was just a quick jab. But I'm fine now! Absolutely nothing to worry about!" She smiled reassuringly. "See? Just a little stomach hit! That happens to everyone once in a while, right?" 2P!America shook his head.

"Seriously, don't you remember the rule?" Her grin twitched and she sat down on her bed.

"Of course! Don't leave an injury unnoticed or unattended but this wasn't an injury! This was a simple blow! Nothing more nothing less and it isn't something to worry about! Now can you all pretty please get out of my room?" Oliver shook his head.

"No, we need to make sure the blow didn't damage your organs," he glanced at 2p!France, "Should we take her to the hospital?" Her eyes widened.

"NO! I mean there really is no need," she added when everyone stared at her, "I just need to rest for a while... that's all..."

2p!England squirmed as he battle what his decision should be. "Well... I guess... but you're grounded for a month for not telling anyone which means you can't go killing with us!"

She groaned inside but nodded. "Okay." He gave her one last glance.

"Do you want me to clean it up or-"

"I can do it," she interrupted, "I can handle a little puke." With that they started to file out. Matthieu stopped at the door.

"Annabeth," he looked back at her, "Come get me when you're ready to tell me what really happened." He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to protest. "I'm not American, you're too fast for someone to hit you in the stomach. Not to mention you're sleeves," he pointed at her hands, "You always grasp the edges when you're lying."

Her face flushed as red as his uniform. "Y-You noticed?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's not that hard," he smiled slightly, "You just have to watch." He turned back into his usual depressed self and left.

She got out a towel and started cleaning when she realized being grounded was a good thing. 'I can figure out this weird thing that's happened to me,' she though mopping up the vomit, 'I'm pretty sure it's not a part of puberty... unless Al skipped over that part.'


End file.
